


Senses Denied

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blindfolds, Dom/sub, M/M, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sub!Grantaire with sensory deprivation - Grantaire becomes overwhelmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senses Denied

Grantaire took in a slow, slow inhalation, and his exhalation was slower. He was still, his hands out either side of him, and he knew Courfeyrac was grasping one and Combeferre the other, and it was  _dark_ , Grantaire couldn't  _see_  anything, and he couldn't remember which one of them was on which side.

The one on his left was rubbing gentle circles against his palm with his thumb, and the one on his right was just grasping Grantaire's hand, with both his hands. Grantaire's breathing sped a little, and he was aware that he gave a choked little sound, a choked little sound that echoed so  _loudly_  within his own head, because he couldn't  _hear_  anything else.

The plugs in his ears were beeswax, Grantaire knew, because Combeferre had mentioned in quietly before he'd pressed them in. It had been surreal, seeing Courfeyrac and Combeferre's mouths moving, of them sharing looks, without hearing the words they were saying.

Courfeyrac had hushed him, though, Grantaire had known that from the movement of his lips as he crouched in front of Grantaire where he was kneeling, reaching forwards with the black cloth to blindfold him.

It was strange. Grantaire was suspended in some black ecstasy, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. The smell of Combeferre's apartment, of the expensive candles he splurged on that left a sweet fragrance in the air, was so much more intense this way.

Grantaire thought of the ache in his knees (he'd refused a pillow despite Combeferre's uncomfortable, hardwood floors), of the warmth on both of his hands, of that gorgeous, gorgeous sensation of the thumb on his left palm, in one circle after another.

Grantaire inhaled deeply, and then he felt something slightly chilled press against his lips. He opened his mouth obediently, took a bite of the strawberry, and he let out a  _moan_  as the taste seemed to explode on his tongue, a hundred times more intense than it ever had been. 

His cheeks flamed a moment later, embarrassed, and if Courfeyrac and Combeferre were mocking him now, talking about how pathetic he was, Grantaire would never know, would never be able to hear, and fuck, who  _wouldn't_  think he was embarrassing?

Moaning at a damned strawberry was sad in the worst of ways. Another strawberry followed, and Grantaire bit back the moan he wanted to let out, did the same with the grapes, the small pieces of cheese, the bread. When the wine pressed to his lips, the glass cool to the touch, Grantaire drank greedily, and he hummed.

And then the blindfold was being undone, and everything was light again. "-credible, though? Wasn't he incredible? He looked so good, and his posture was fantastic and he looked so  _calm_ -"

"Courfeyrac, I'm taking the earplugs out, tell  _him_  that, not me." Combeferre said, and the words he'd heard Courfeyrac say rang in Grantaire's ears, and suddenly he was shaking with effort, letting out little noises, and there were  _tears_  on his cheeks, and he was sobbing.

"Woah, hey, hey, Grantaire!" Courfeyrac threw himself on the ground next to his submissive, dropping back onto his ass to bundle Grantaire into his lap. "Hey, hey, don't cry, darling, no, you did so well-" Courfeyrac kept on talking but it was all a blur to him, and Grantaire could only cling tightly to Courfeyrac's shirt and bow his head as his body was racked with desperate sobs.

They were  _praising_  him, Courfeyrac was  _praising_  him without- without  _prompt_ , and he knew he wasn't that good, was an awful submissive and probably especially awful compared to Enjolras...

Courfeyrac soothed him, rocking back and forth and cradling Grantaire's head against his shoulder, meeting Combeferre's gaze in desperate askance for help as he did so. Grantaire felt Combeferre at his back, felt the doctor's hands gently traverse his naked back, as he pressed a kiss on his neck. "Grantaire, you were very good." Combeferre murmured gently, quietly. "We promise you, you did nothing wrong, you've no need to cry."

Grantaire's next sob was a ragged sound that wrenched through Courfeyrac's heart, and for a few moments Combeferre thought the other dominant would soon be sobbing as well. "Sub, get up and step back towards me." Combeferre ordered, and Grantaire stumbled as he did so, but Combeferre caught him. "To the bed, come now." Grantaire was naked, where Combeferre and Courfeyrac were in pyjama pants and a set of flannel pyjamas respectively, and both dominants joined him in bed. 

"That was perfect." Courfeyrac told him. "You trusted us, and you did  _so_  well, please, why are you crying?"

"Because he did so well." Combeferre murmured gently over the sub's body as he gently stroked Grantaire's wet cheek. "You're overwhelmed, Grantaire?"

Grantaire nodded, desperate, needy, and Courfeyrac moulded his body against Grantaire's back, holding him tightly, spooning up against him. "Let it out." Combeferre murmured, tangling his hands in Grantaire's and keeping them occupied to stop him from digging crescent marks against his own palm. "Cry, it's alright."

It was a good ten minutes before the tears had stopped entirely, and Grantaire's eyes were sore and dry, his nose was blocked, and his throat felt full of thick mucous. Combeferre grabbed a tissue from the box behind him, offering it to Grantaire as he blew his nose and wiped his face.

He was humiliated, his cheeks were flushed, but Courfeyrac was stroking over his ribs in a gentle motion and Combeferre was murmuring soft words, "It's okay, it's alright, just let it out, it's okay.", that rang in Grantaire's head. 

"I'm sorry." Grantaire whispered.

"You don't need to be sorry. Many subs get overwhelmed with sensory deprivation." Combeferre told him gently, reaching up to stroke through his hair.

"Enjolras said he tried this with a dom once and he freaked within like, a minute, started kicking out and screaming." Courfeyrac said softly, and Grantaire took in a heaving little breath. 

"It wasn't just the sensory dep though, was it?" Combeferre asked, keeping a careful eye on Grantaire's face. 

"I wasn't lying when I told him you were incredible, Grantaire." Courfeyrac whispered, looking distraught. "I promise, I swear, I didn't, I wasn't, I  _wouldn't_ -"

"I know, I'm sorry." Grantaire whispered, and Courfeyrac pressed a tender kiss to the back of his neck. 

"It's okay." Combeferre murmured, taking Grantaire's dirtied tissue and putting it on the bedside table. "It's alright." Grantaire took in heavy breaths, nodding. 

"Did you like it?" Courfeyrac asked after a long pause of just holding Grantaire between them. "Other than the, you know, ragged sobbing." Grantaire laughed despite himself, and Courfeyrac smiled weakly as he kissed the back of Grantaire's neck again.

"I liked it." Grantaire mumbled, conscious of how thick and sick his voice sounded after crying like that.

"Good. Would you want to try again?" Combeferre asked quietly. 

"Yeah." Grantaire whispered. "Yeah, yeah, I'd- yeah."

"We can bring in some sensation play next time." Courfeyrac murmured, and Grantaire closed his eyes, going relaxed between both of them. "Some ice, some fur, some heatpads, wax play, maybe." 

"Mmm." Grantaire hummed softly, pressing his head back against Courfeyrac's shoulder as Combeferre's brought Grantaire's hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. 

"You're a good submissive." Combeferre told him gently, and Grantaire hid his grin against the pillow with an embarrassed little sound.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sensations In Their Half-Dozens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038947) by [DictionaryWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites)




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